


House Carpenter

by Elevensins



Series: The Farmhouse Collection [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 03:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2253750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elevensins/pseuds/Elevensins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky's more aware than Steve realizes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	House Carpenter

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a post I found on Tumblr regarding Bucky not really being the perfect friend. Written while listening to House Carpenter by Hurt.

"I’m not a good person."

It was the first thing Bucky had said. Well, not really the first thing, but the first full and coherent sentence he had uttered since they arrived at the farmhouse a year ago. To the day, even, as if he’d picked the one year anniversary of their arrival to finally speak his mind. 

Steve turned the faucet off, leaving the dishes from breakfast to soak in warm, soapy water, and turned to see Bucky standing in the doorway. 

"I hated it when you became Captain America. I resented you. I wanted the old Steve back."

"I can understand that. I changed, things changed, the war was the war, and —"

"No. No, Steve. I wanted you to go back to being the little guy at my side. Who always came to me like a kicked puppy. The one who put up with me calling him a punk. Who I knew would never get a date to save his life. Because you being small made some sick part of me feel better about myself. And when you became this, all I had left was the overwhelming feeling of inadequacy. You were perfect in every way once they gave you a body to match your heart. And I could never compete and I couldn’t own you anymore. You belonged to everyone, you were a freaking national icon. And there was no room for me in there anymore."

Steve stood stock still, absorbing those words. His mouth parted, but he realized suddenly he had nothing to say. No platitudes that would ease the tension in the room. No joking quip, no sarcastic remark that would change the dynamic. He’d waited an entire year for some sign that Bucky would come back. 

When he said nothing, Bucky continued. ”I hated you. I resented you. And I loved you so much it hurt to think about it. So when they removed my memories, I felt this overwhelming relief. I didn’t even know why I felt that way. I never tried to fight them when they wiped me, no matter how much it hurt. Because I didn't want to remember.”

"Bucky…" Steve began, picking his words carefully, "You think I don’t know that? That I never noticed? You were Mr. Big and Tall and Handsome and something I could never even hope to be and you used to piss me off sometimes at how cocky and egotistical you were."

He crossed the kitchen as he spoke, stopping only when both men were facing each other. It was so hard not to touch, not to rest his hand on Bucky’s arm, or reach out to grip his shoulder. “But I put up with it because you were my friend. Because you and I built forts out of couch cushions together when we were ten. Pulled my ass out of those back alleys so many times when they were beating on me. Invited me to live with you when Mom died.”

Bucky’s mouth twitched, his eyes were so wide. He drew in a deep breath. ”Only if you agreed to shine my shoes and take the garbage out.”

"Would you have really made me do that?" Steve lifted a brow, canting his head.

Bucky averted his gaze finally, glancing down at the cat now curling her body around his ankles. ”No… probably not.” 

Steve rubbed at his forehead briefly and then set his hands on his hips to avoid reaching out toward Bucky. ”Look, Bucky, I already knew that side of you. You weren't very good at hiding it. I just put up with it because that’s how things were. I just wasn’t willing to let you push me back into that place again.”

Bucky nodded absently, the blank expression returning to his features again. ”I don’t hate you anymore.”

"Well, that’s good."

Steely eyes lifted to meet Steve’s gaze again finally. ”I don’t know if I love you anymore either.”

That did hurt, like a sucker punch to the gut. Steve smiled anyway, “Bucky, that’s ok too. People change. You’ve been through a lot.”

"Don’t," Bucky said with a sigh. He bent over, reaching down to grab the cat and pull her up. She purred mightily as she rubbed against his chin. "I know you love me, Steve. You’re still a terrible liar. I’m just saying I’m not… a good person, and maybe you should find someone better."

Steve’s smile faded. He reached out to brush his fingers over the cat’s head. She purred even louder. ”How long have you been this coherent?”

Bucky shrugged. ”I don’t know for sure. Maybe a few months. Just easier not to talk. Everyone expects me to be blank and silent.”

"Everyone being exactly me."

"Therapist too. A bit."

"I don’t want to leave you, Bucky."

Bucky passed the cat over to him. Steve took her silently, feeling her nestle in against his chest and press the top of her head against his chin to demand attention. ”That’s your choice. I’m just letting you know I’m … aware now. You don’t owe me anything. You’re free to move on.”

"That wasn’t why I stayed in the first place. I was, still am, with you to the end—"

"—of the line. I know." Bucky took a step back. "Chores to do. I’ll see you at lunch."

Steve stood there for a long moment, watching Bucky head out the front door, hearing the screen door bang shut and the sound of his boots on the wooden porch. The cat purred against his chest and she nipped at his chin to get his attention. Steve absently scritched behind her ears to appease her. 

"Sorry Bucky, I’m not that easy to get rid of. You’ll remember that someday, too."


End file.
